‘Life’s a Happy Song’

Before we get to the Flight of the Conchords or the tricky art of writing funny songs for beloved puppets to sing, we need to talk about Figwit. Because should you enter “Bret McKen­zie” into Google, you’ll find that the first suggested search is not, say, “Bret McKenzie Conchords” or even “Bret McKenzie Muppets” but “Bret McKenzie Lord of the Rings.” Intrigued, you will investigate further. And you will learn that McKenzie, a native New Zealander, had a three-second role as a nameless elf in “Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring” in 2001. (His father, Peter McKenzie, is a part-time actor who played a larger role in the film, as the human Elendil.) Furthermore, a sharp-eyed Israeli woman spotted the then-not-famous McKenzie and, smitten by his elfin beauty, dubbed him Figwit. (It’s an acronym for Frodo Is Great . . . Who Is That?!?? which she claims is a more or less accurate transcription of her original reaction to seeing the elf.) This woman then established a Web site, Figwitlives.net, dedicated to all things Figwittian. There were local news stories. There were roving bands of Tolkienites that trailed McKenzie to Conchords shows. There was even a tongue-in-cheek documentary created in part by McKenzie’s girlfriend (now his wife), Hannah Clarke, which contains this quote from Ian McKellen when asked about Figwit: “I do remember there were some very attractive young girls. Which one was he?” McKenzie explains the Figwit phenomenon like this: “My brother was also an extra. Basically all tall and skinny New Zealanders were elves in the film.”

McKenzie is now much better known, of course, as one half of the Flight of the Conchords, a musical-comedy group he’s in with Jemaine Clement. (During a recent effort by this reporter to distinguish McKenzie from Clement to a relatively random selection of people, McKenzie was described as “the cute one,” which touched off a Hatfield-versus-McCoy-style feud.) The Conchords were the stars of a self-titled HBO series from 2007 to 2009, which followed McKenzie and Clement, playing even-further-slackerized versions of themselves, as they ambled about the Lower East Side, failing, looking for musical gigs, failing some more, and every so often bursting into song. Which, come to think of it, McKenzie says now, is not so different from how the Muppets operate. “Conchords is definitely very Muppety,” he says. “It’s like a mixture of the Muppets and ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm.’ ”

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Bret McKenzie and Kermit the Frog.Credit
Zachary Scott for The New York Times

So it makes sense that McKenzie should apply his rare talents to a sacred and definitely more daunting Muppets-related endeavor; he has written three songs for the forthcoming movie “The Muppets.” It’s a sacred endeavor because, to a certain generation, of which McKen­zie is part (he is 35), the Muppets are a found­ational part of childhood; writing a song for Kermit is a bit like writing a song for a blankie that millions of children shared. And it’s daunting because, well, these are the Muppets, and the Muppets have rules. And as of 2004, the Muppets, as a property, are owned by Disney. And Disney has rules.

For example: At one point, McKenzie wrote a lyrical joke for Kermit, in which he would sing, “I remember when I was just a little piece of felt.” That didn’t fly. “I was told: ‘You’re not allowed to do that. The Muppets have always existed. You can’t break down their world.’ ” Another rule: Frogs and bears and pigs can talk, but penguins and chickens can’t. They can cluck or squawk musically, but they can’t say words. “So I was like, ‘Can we get the penguins to sing?’ And they’d say: ‘No. Penguins don’t sing.’ ”

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Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, the Muppets’ house band.Credit
Everett Collection

McKenzie got involved with the film when James Bobin, who co-created the Conchords’ HBO show, signed on to direct “The Muppets” and encouraged McKenzie to submit a demo. One song McKenzie wrote, “Life’s a Happy Song,” became the de facto anthem for the movie. It’s a light, bouncy, expertly calibrated number that’s fun without being sharp, witty but with no taint of irony. He contributed two other songs: “Me Party” and “Man or Muppet?” which is an angsty ballad that has a bit more of the Conchords’ deadpan flavor. (An ’80s-style sax solo would not be out of place.)

While he worked on the songs, McKenzie tried not to fret too much over the impressive history of Muppet movie music, which includes several iconic hits, not least being “Rainbow Connection.” When I mentioned that song, McKenzie laughed. “So many people would say to me: ‘You’re doing music for the Muppets? Hmmm. Well, you’re not going to write anything as good as ‘Rainbow Connection.’ And I’d say: ‘Yep. You’re right.’ ”

There was also the problem of writing a song for a man who sounds like a pig. The Muppets, it turns out, may be infinitely adorable, but they have very limited vocal range. “If Miss Piggy goes too high,” McKenzie says, “she sounds like a mouse. And if she goes too low, she sounds like a dude.” This, in part, is because (children, stop reading now!) Miss Piggy is a dude: Eric Jacobson. And when they recorded the songs for the film, it’s not as if it was Miss Piggy ambling up to the microphone. Instead, McKenzie encountered the slightly odd sight of a regular-looking man channeling a very familiar voice. “It’s a funny environment in the studio,” McKen­zie says. “You’re like, ‘Can you try doing it a little higher?’ And you’ve got this guy in there doing this bizarre voice. Then, in between takes, he still talks to you as Piggy. Because he doesn’t want to break character.”

Adam Sternbergh is the culture editor of the magazine. He last wrote about epic collapses in sports.